The Glist
by nancy fan
Summary: This fic provides a little backstory to the infamous Glist.


**This fic is just something I wrote on a whim after watching 'Bad Reputation'. I hope everyone enjoys:)**

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The asphalt was frosted pink with the fallen petals from the cherry blossom as Quinn ambled distractedly through the car lot of the shopping mall. May had sent temperatures rocketing into the high thirties and Quinn was hot and sticky as a result, her feet swollen uncomfortably beneath her too tight shoes. Of course, _everything_ had become too tight lately, the meagre collection of clothing she had managed to snatch from her parents house struggling to keep up with her daily expanding stomach. Wearily, scraping an escaped strand of pale-blonde hair away from her reddened cheeks, Quinn ran a hand comfortingly over the small purse of money that was shoved in her pocket. She needed new clothes and not because she had a party to attend to or a hot date with Finn but because the last pastel colored dress that she had been just about able to drag over her bump had split unceremoniously earlier when Quinn had been sitting down to breakfast. Though Quinn knew Mrs. Puckerman could ill afford it, the woman had pressed some notes determinedly into her hand, instructing her to buy some clothes to do her until the birth. And guiltily, Quinn had agreed, not really having any choice in the matter unless she was willing to wear her pajamas to school.

The mall was eerily quiet, a casualty of the gloriously sunny temperatures outside and Quinn was glad, relieved not to have to suffer the pitying, disapproving stares that came with being a sixteen-year-old mother-to-be. Wandering through a store that she would have frequented regularly in her pre-Puck, pre-wine cooler days, Quinn ran a hand longingly over a dress that was made of the most delicate silk. Shaded a sunny yellow, the dress suited her coloring perfectly and would have flattered her slim frame.

_Would have,_ Quinn considered dismally, glancing down in disgust at the impossibly swollen stomach and wondering for a minute how Puck could even bear to touch her. Pregnancy had robbed Quinn of a lot of things; her family, the Cheerios, Finn and the affront to her vanity didn't seem quite so terrible in comparison to that. But it upset Quinn and every time she had to discard a much loved dress or skirt for something old and frumpy belonging to Puck's mom just because it fit, she felt like crying.

"You want me to ring those up for you, honey?" the elderly cashier asked, when Quinn finally set a rainbow hued pile of roomy dresses and stretchy leggings onto the counter. The discount store was one Quinn would have openly scoffed at in her previous existence as head Cheerio queen of the school but now, smiling appreciatively at the kind-faced lady, she was only grateful that she could make the meagre sum of money stretch so far.

The carrier bags swinging loosely from her hands, Quinn was about to call Puck to collect her, when the sight of her mother and father walking hand-in-hand out of an expensive jewelry store made her body literally go slack with shock. They didn't even see her; just continued to stroll away, chatting animately about some fancy Mediterranean cruise they were planning on taking. Quinn hadn't spoken to her parents in weeks but somehow she expected that their lives would have been irreparably changed in the wake of their daughter's disownment. She had imagined her mother moping around the house, her usual glamorous attire abandoned in her disconsolate state. And her father heartbroken, staring forlornly at a game on the television set, with his whiskey in his hand and wishing he had done things differently. How wrong she'd been. Her father still moved with his familiar, cocky swagger and Judy looked immaculate, her smooth unlined face and perfectly coordinating clothing demonstrating no sign of what had been to Quinn the six most cruelest weeks of her life.

_She had to get out of here._

Tears welling up in her eyes, Quinn dashed for the door, crashing headlong into a group of sniggering, wide-eyed freshmen in the process. The girls blonde and fabulous, a rainbow palate of pastels in their pretty sun dresses, reminded Quinn a little of herself.

"That's her," Quinn heard one of the voices snigger before a chorus of laughter drifted in the air. "You know she was president of the celibacy club,"

"The irony," another voice cut in disparagingly, sarcasm dripping from her every syllable. "You know, I heard she slept with all of the guys on the football team and now she doesn't even know who the father of her baby is,"

Blinded by her tears, Quinn turned away, unable to bear another second of it.

Puck was at football practice, Sarah was attending a friend's birthday party and the house was mercifully quiet. Lying sprawled on the bed, the worn pink cotton comforting against her skin, tears streaked miserably down Quinn's cheeks as she reflected on the gleeful look that was evident on those girls faces when they tearing her reputation to shreds. What was left of it, she considered unhappily, scraping her blonde hair away from her wet cheeks and forcing herself to sit up. Quinn had always prided herself on her unblemished reputation, being president of the celibacy club sealing her image as the squeaky-clean golden girl of McKinley High. She had worked hard at school to maintain her grades, had suffered the constant gruel of the Cheerio practices to secure her enviable position as head cheerleader but in the end, none of it mattered. Her parents couldn't even bare to look at her, Ms. Sylvester had kicked her off the Cheerios and everyone at school thought she was a cheap tramp.

_Why the hell did she even bother anymore?_

At that realization, a burst of anger, so strong it frightened her, surged through Quinn.

Reaching for her book bag, she hastily withdrew a ragged notebook and a freshly sharpened pencil. It was time to rebel against the cruel rumors and gossip and regain a little control of her life. Everyone in McKinley High saw her as a slut, so why not pay credence to that. Reputation was a powerful commodity and maybe having a bad reputation was better than having none.

_Most Promiscuous McKinley High Students_, Quinn scrawled in flowing handwriting on the top of the page before scribbling the name of the school out and printing Glee Club neatly instead.

Angrily writing her name at the top of the page, Quinn Fabray now commanded first place as being supposedly the most promiscuous student in the Glee club which was ridiculous considering she had only had sex once in her whole life and she could hardly remember it while Brittany and Santana had easily worked their way through the entire football team.

The rest of the names were scrawled down mindlessly on the page, though Quinn had to admit she felt a cheap thrill scribbling Rachel's name on the bottom. Rachel and her perfect voice and her perfect family and her perfect relationship with Jesse had really been pissing her off lately. And it wasn't just the hormones talking.

The list complete, Quinn felt oddly relieved, the mere act of committing her fucked-up thoughts to paper having been more therapeutic than she could ever have imagined possible. _Dr. Phil is right,_ Quinn considered dully, her slightly reddened eyes the only indication of her earlier distress.

Tucking a lock of her golden blonde hair behind her ear, Quinn sniffed thoughtfully, the list clutched fiercely in her hand. She should tear it up immediately, she knew, rip the list into oblivion and toss it into the garbage, where there was no chance of it ever seeing the light of day again.

But glancing down at the list of names scribbled untidily on the page, Quinn found that she couldn't. I'll do it later, she decided unconvincingly, replacing the sheet of paper carefully in her notebook before heading outside into the waiting sunshine.


End file.
